


two can keep a secret

by b_o_i



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, World War II, current mood: ?????, idk what this is ok!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_o_i/pseuds/b_o_i
Summary: You learn a lot about a guy in the trenches, and Dugan learns quite a bit about Barnes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this week on: I Got No Clue Where This Came From But I Wrote It Anyway
> 
> i have a lot of feelings abt ww2 pining and also abt the commandos and also abt bucky fuckin barnes so i kinda rolled it all into one????
> 
> baby's first vaguely descriptive sexual content

 

 

You learn a lot about a guy when you’re in the trenches. When you’re stuck side by side, fighting for your lives, hanging on while the world explodes around you—you learn to trust the boys around you, depend on them. And despite the chaos that unfolds in actual battle, the rest of it all—the sitting around, on edge and all wound up and waiting for the moment you’ll have to pick up your gun again—is actually pretty damn boring. Most of war is actually _tedious._ There’s always hours to burn. 

You learn a lot about a guy in the trenches, and Dugan learns quite a bit about Barnes. Good kid—a bit of an asshole, but so is Dugan—best damn shot he’s ever seen, great story teller, smarter than you’d think lookin at his pretty face. And he _is_ pretty, all blue eyes and jawlines and lips, the kind of pretty that really makes you think about war and how it always takes the young ones and all that. 

Dugan thinks he has a girl back home, maybe a fella— _someone_ , judging by the dopey look on his face he gets whenever he reads one of his letters. Pretty boy like him aught’a. 

He probably has a someone back home, but that doesn’t stop him from gripping Dugan’s shoulder and shoving his other hand in his mouth while he thrusts into Dugan’s hand. Doesn’t stop him from returning the favor, forehead pressed against his neck. Certainly doesn’t stop him from sinking to his knees in the woods, or letting Dugan do the sinking.

Because see, a fella gets lonely out here. No dames for miles, no civilization to be found, barely anything edible. Cigarettes and banter are the only things keeping them all together. 

A fella gets lonely out here, and a fella has needs, y’know? And if there’s someone willing to satisfy those needs, and if that someone looks real nice with his face all flushed and his eyes shut tight and has a mouth made for suckin cock, well. Somethin’ about gift horses and mouths, right? 

So Barnes is real good at sucking cock—so good Dugan thinks it’s probably a fella he has waiting for him. Always gets this look on his face—the same one he has when he’s looking through the scope of his rifle—all singleminded focus, like the one thing he absolutely has to do is suck Dugan’s fuckin soul out through his dick. He’ll close his eyes most times, and that’s fine, but sometimes Dugan’ll tug too tight on his hair and jerk him out of wherever he’s at in his head, and Barnes’ll look up at him through his long-ass eyelashes, lips still stretched around him, and fuck if that doesn’t get to him. 

He’s also real good at staying quiet, surprisingly. Especially during the night, when their watches line up, and Dugan gets a hand down the kid’s pants, hard and fast and just the way he likes it. He’ll bite his pretty lips raw or bite down on his hand, and his head’ll tip back or maybe tip forward, digging into Dugan’s shoulder, so close he can hear his ragged breathing. 

He’s real good at staying quiet, but there’s this one spot, right behind his ear, and when Dugan presses his lips against it (because kissin isn’t something they do), the kid’ll go spineless. Slump against him, have to bite down on Dugan’s jacket to keep from outright moaning and _shit,_ sometimes he’ll whisper things— _be quiet,_ or _pretty_ , or _good_ —right in his ear, right against that fucking weak spot, and _boy_ does Barnes have a weakness for praise. 

So Dugan learns a thing or two about Barnes, and later, after Azzano and all the subsequent shit that came after, when he meets Captain Fucking America, he learns a little more. The first is that the Lil Steve Rogers from Barnes’ stories has definitely bulked up a little. Second, Barnes has it _bad._

_Real_ bad. All long looks when he thinks no one is watching and admiration in his eyes even when he’s telling him he’s a ‘fucking idiot, raiding bases and jumping over fire, what the fuck’. He has it bad, and Rogers is oblivious as hell. It’s almost painful to watch. And Dugan thinks that he was right: Barnes _did_ have someone back home, just not the way he thought. 

(He’s still not sure where the hell he learned to suck cock that good though.) 

To Dugan’s surprise—and maybe he’s a little pleased—their little arrangement falls back into place. Barnes is a little different now, clings a little tighter, has to blink himself out of a daze sometimes, has nightmares no one talks about, but it’s still good. It’s kind of exhilarating, actually, hiding something like this from the captain—Dugan’s essentially fucking his captain’s best friend right under his nose, and they haven’t gotten caught yet. 

(And maybe Barnes chokes out half a name right before he comes sometimes, but it’s doesn’t matter. It’s release. A fella has urges. Cap doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.)

And one time, they’re sitting around a big fancy SSR table, Dugan and Barnes and Cap and the rest of the Commandos, listening to Cap and the Colonel talk about some Important Business. Putting together all the intel from their latest mission, figuring out where to go next, all that fun stuff. And Barnes is next to him, head propped up on his hand, looking bored as all hell, and Dugan gets an idea.

Barnes jumps, minutely, when he feels Dugan’s hand slide discreetly up his thigh. Shoots him this questioning, slightly panicked look, and Dugan just raises his eyebrows, smirking under his mustache at the way Barnes narrows his eyes. 

He waits until Barnes has turned back to the meeting, before he moves his hand up just a bit further. The kid doesn’t jump this time, but he sees the way his hands fist against the table. He shoots him another Look, but he doesn’t shake his head, doesn’t tell him to stop (because if he did, of course he would, he ain’t that much of an asshole, and this is a dangerous game they’re playing). And _Jesus,_ the guy’s kinkier than he thought.

Way kinkier than he thought, with the way he shifts in his seat, clenching his thighs and unconsciously spreading his legs a little as Dugan inches up further. When he gets high enough to feel Barnes’ half-hard cock through his fancy dress uniform pants, he gives a sharp squeeze. 

Barnes coughs loudly. All the eyes in the room snap towards him.

“You alright, Buck?” Cap asks, and the blush spreading across Barnes’ face is priceless. 

Dugan doesn’t squeeze again right then, because he’s not a completely horrible person, and Barnes coughs again and goes, “Yeah, I’m good, sorry.”

Dugan _does_ squeeze right after that, though, because Barnes is five feet away from the guy he’s pining his heart out for with Dugan’s hand palming him, tracing the outline of his cock, and everyone in the whole damn room has no idea. Fuck, _Dugan_ didn’t know he was this kinky. 

He goes on like that throughout the whole damn meeting, just touching, all lightly, running a hand up and down the kid’s thighs, stopping just long enough for Barnes to get himself together again before starting right back up. 

By the end of it, Barnes is a subtle mess. He dodges Cap’s concerns—“You sure you’re alright? You’re lookin’ real flushed, you sure you don’t have a fever or something?”—and gets the hell out of that room. 

Dugan follows a few minutes later. Finds Barnes in one of the broom closets and pushes him up against the wall and finally—“Finally, _god_ ,” Barnes whispers—shoves a hand down his pants. Jerks him off slow, for once, drawing it out until the kid looks close to begging, before finally bringing him over the edge. 

Barnes slumps against him, boneless, all fucked out and breathless, and Dugan feels very self-satisfied. He thinks: I did that. 

And when Barnes turns them around so Dugan is flat against the wall, sinks to his knees, looking up at him through his pretty fucking eyelashes, well. That’s nobody’s business but his own. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ??????? more wartime hand jobs lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ////drops this unnecessary addition bc i couldn't stop thinkin abt these assholes and runs
> 
> (also thanks for your nice comments! i expected zero turnout on this fic tbh. enjoy whatever this is i guess???)

 

It's one of those nights, quiet and uneventful and boring as shit, only he and Barnes up until morning. They hadn't done shit that day, no enemy sightings, no shooting, and they probably wouldn't do shit tomorrow, so both of them are all restless and tense.

Dugan gets a hand down Barnes' dirty uniform pants two hours in, Barnes pressed back against the trench wall, a good few feet away from where the other men huddle asleep.

He's grinding nice and slow against him, hands fisted in his jacket, and Dugan can't say he entirely hates nights like this. God, he wants to fuck him, more than he's wanted to fuck anyone in a while (it's those fucking lips that do it, he thinks, the way the kid always swipes his tongue out when he's thinking, worries his bottom lips between his teeth, the way they get all bitten raw and swollen from trying so hard to stay quiet). 

Instead, he drags a finger alone that fucking spot, real slow down the curve behind his ear.

 _"God,_ " Barnes breathes, forehead hot against the skin of Dugan's neck. 

"Not quite," he whispers back, "But you use that pretty mouth a'yours after this, and you can call me whatever you like."

"Shut up," Barnes laughs breathlessly, "you're goin'a hell on your mustache alone."

Dugan snorts, "And your fuckin' mouth is sendin' you straight down with me."

"Thought you said I-" his breath catches, "-talk too much."

"Lucky for you talkin' ain't the only thing you're good at."

Barnes gives another breathless laugh that breaks into something he has to shove his face into Dugan's shoulder to stifle, and that's the end of that. He's shaking now, fingers digging into Dugan's jacket, mouthing curses into his shoulder, and he's trying so damn hard to be quiet, so damn good and warm and alive. 

"C'mon, kid," he breathes against his ear, reveling in the shiver that gets him, and then, because he knows exactly what it does to him: "You're so fuckin' pretty, _god_ , so damn good."

And that's what does it-a vicious twist of his hand and Barnes is _gone_ , spilling over his hand with a choked off gasp.

The world is silent for a few moments, just crickets and Jackson's snoring and Barnes' breathing, before, "Fuck," Barnes murmurs, "that thing on your face ain't the only thing you're goin'a hell for."

Dugan snorts again, "And here I thought you liked my for my pretty face." 

"There're lotsa words I could use to describe your face, but pretty ain't one of 'em." Barnes pushes himself up with seemingly great exertion, "And I sure as hell don't like you for that animal under your nose," he adds a moment later.

"You're lucky you're pretty," Dugan grumbles, and Barnes just winks at him, grinning all lazy and familiar and oh, Dugan thinks, that's not good--he can feel himself getting some stupid fond soft spot for this fucker and that's not good at all.

So he flicks him in the ear and says, "I gotta piss," which really means wait a few minutes and then get your ass outta this hole and make good on that promise. Promise meaning a well-deserved blow job. 

Barnes just grins again and waves him off, glancing at Jones and Jackson before giving a vague nod. Dugan stands as quiet as he can and goes to find a nice comfortable tree to settle against-the ground is dry too, 'cause Dugan's nice like that, and people might ask questions if Barnes came back with muddy knees.

 

**Author's Note:**

> im tired and wrote this rlly fast and always love me some feedback


End file.
